


thread my way through a string of stars

by blueblueelectricblue



Series: a star spinning in orbit, lighting up the sky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Diapers, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 10:26:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18134534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueblueelectricblue/pseuds/blueblueelectricblue
Summary: Steve wakes up little one morning, but he decides he'd like to give the pull-ups Daddy bought him a try.(Or, the one where his favorite blanket finally sees the inside of a washing machine.)





	thread my way through a string of stars

It never fails to amaze Bucky just how relaxed Steve gets when they play, and after a few months, they aren’t just doing it when Steve’s come back from a difficult Avengers meeting or a big charity benefit or a tough mission – it’s become more regular, although not scheduled in any way. It’s so easy to slip into their roles now, and Steve increasingly does it when he’s especially depressed (which is more often than anyone who doesn’t know him could ever guess) or when Bucky’s having a bad brain day of his own. And it really does help. There’s something soothing about watching Steve color or helping him put together a Lego set or reading to him, the both of them snuggled together in the same armchair.

The more comfortable Steve gets with all of this – although there are times when he still can’t articulate what’s bothering him, so he just stops talking altogether – the more he starts to ask for. And Bucky can’t say no, because first, why do anything if you’re going to half-ass it, and second, Steve isn’t a real kid who needs to learn about limits. That doesn’t mean Bucky puts up with just anything, whining being really the only thing he can’t tolerate for long, or that they don’t have rules. They do. There’s no hitting or throwing things, which is easy enough for Steve to obey, and he’s to listen when Daddy asks him not to do something, which is harder for him but also a less frequent occurrence. Steve’s mostly an easy kid, although his adult stubborn streak doesn’t just magically disappear when he’s little.

The thing that surprises them both, when they talk about it as grown-ups (which is still rare unless they need to discuss or modify a rule), is how much Steve likes diapers. Bucky had bought him some cloth training pants with waterproofing on the outside and disposable pull-ups too, but so far all Steve has asked for are the regular diapers. Not usually during the day, but in the evenings and overnight, which suits Bucky fine.

The first time Steve had ever worn a diaper, he’d slept later than usual and when he finally decided to get out of bed, he had an accident as soon as he sat up. He’d immediately panicked until Bucky talked and cuddled him through it and sent him off to take a shower afterward. Since then, Bucky has him wear a diaper anyway when he goes to bed feeling little, and Steve often wakes up wet – although Bucky still isn’t quite sure about whether it happens while Steve’s asleep, or if he wakes up and goes and then falls back asleep, or if he just lets go when he wakes up in the morning. Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter, because Bucky doesn’t mind changing diapers at all.

When Steve finally expresses an interest in the training pants, the weather has turned cooler with the promise of autumn. He’d gone to bed as an adult and wakes up grumpy from a slew of nightmares during which Bucky had almost been ejected from the bed thanks to all the thrashing around, but after Steve uses the toilet and gulps down his morning antidepressant, he slides right down into his little self.

Bucky has been awake for an hour or so already, but he’s been reading because the only time he can do it without Steve interrupting him four thousand times a minute no matter what age he is, and Bucky looks up when Steve crawls back into bed and then right up against him.

“Daddy?”

Oh, it’s going to be one of these days – needing Daddy right away. Good thing they haven’t got anything planned for today. “Yeah, Steve?”

“You know how you got me those pull-ups, so I can use the potty but it’s there in case I have an accident?”

“How could I forget?” Bucky grins at Steve. God, he’s cute.

“Can I wear those today? I wanna try and be bigger.”

“Sure you can. Why don’t you pick out the ones you want and we’ll get dressed and have some breakfast?”

Steve lights up. “Pancakes?”

“Why not?” Bucky fucking loves pancakes. He could eat them for breakfast, lunch, _and_ dinner. Sometimes he does when Steve isn’t home so he can have them all to himself.

Steve doesn’t have to be prompted twice, diving right into the wardrobe drawer where Bucky keeps the less frequently used supplies (the rest are in the bathroom), and coming up with a pull-up covered in alphabet blocks that’s almost as thick as one of his overnight diapers. “I like these, Daddy.”

“You want help putting them on?”

He shakes his head. “No thanks, I can do it.”

“Okay, kiddo.” Bucky opens the chest of drawers that’s his and pulls out a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, which is basically what he wears every day, and changes into them relatively quickly, stuffing his feet into a pair of beat-up sneakers that technically belong to Steve.

It takes Steve a little longer to get dressed, mostly because he’s tired and when he’s tired and little he doesn’t move too fast, but eventually he’s in his pull-up and then some workout pants and a blue pullover shirt that’s been washed so many times it’s cashmere-soft. The last thing he does before following Bucky to the kitchen is pick up his satin-edged blanket and put it over his shoulders like a cape. He rarely goes without it when little. Bucky kind of loves that.

“Hey, lovebug,” Bucky says while Steve is helping him mix up the pancake batter, “I know you’re gonna do your best to stay dry today, but you know that you won’t be in trouble if you don’t make it, right?”

Steve ducks his head and averts his eyes. “I know.”

“I mean it, Stevie. And if you get tired of trying and want to go back to diapers, that’s okay too.” Bucky angles his head down so he can kiss Steve’s cheek.

“I can do it, Daddy.”

Bucky lets it go for now; he’s made his point. “Okay. You think this looks like it’s ready to get turned into pancakes?” Bucky gestures at the bowl. They are, but little Steve is more interested in the cooking process because he loves so much to be helpful.

Steve nods. “Can you start cooking them now? I’m really hungry.”

“You’re _always_ hungry. But, yes, I’ll start them now.” Bucky laughs and turns on the electric griddle to heat up, then hands Steve an apple from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table to occupy him while the pancakes get underway.

Breakfast almost takes longer to clean up than it does to actually eat, but Steve’s a good helper in that he helpfully hands Bucky dishes and utensils to wash. Somehow he always manages to find a way of getting out of it no matter what age he is. Good thing Bucky doesn’t mind as much when Steve’s little.

“You want to watch some cartoons?” he asks Steve after setting the last fork into the utensil basket and shutting the dishwasher.

“Batman?” Steve had come across the animated series from the early 1990s on some streaming service or another one evening when he was just browsing, and they’ve both agreed as grown-ups that it’s pretty good, and not just for a kids’ show. 

“Batman sounds good.” He has to admit that he’s curious to see how they characterize Catwoman, who’s being introduced in the next episode queued up.

They sit on the sofa side-by-side, Steve wrapped in his blanket and resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder, with Bucky’s arm wrapped snugly around Steve’s waist, and start watching the show, getting through four episodes before Steve announces that he wants to finish their latest Lego project. It’s a pirate ship that Bucky had bought and surprised Steve with the last time he was little, around ten days ago, and frankly, the ship is _awesome_. Why didn’t they have stuff like this when they really were kids? They’d started putting it together that evening, but it was bedtime before the ship was halfway completed so Bucky suggested leaving it for the next time. Steve had pouted but gotten over it in a few minutes.

It’s been an hour or so and they’re almost finished when Bucky notices Steve fidgeting, which isn’t like him when he’s really concentrating on something, and – _oh_. Right.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Yeah?”

“You think you might need to go to the potty?” Bucky asks, setting down the mainsail.

Steve shakes his head.

“You sure you don’t want to try? You haven’t been since you got up today, and you had two glasses of juice at breakfast.”

“I don’t need to go yet.”

“I think you do. Come on.” Bucky holds his hands out, but Steve doesn’t take them.

“I can do it myself! I’m not a baby, Daddy.” This time he scowls, folding his arms across his chest. It’s not nearly as intimidating as Steve thinks it is, bless him.

“I know you’re not a baby, which is why I’m suggesting we put this on hold for a minute and take a bathroom break.”

“I can hold it.”

Bucky just barely restrains himself from rolling his eyes. Little Steve is such a stubborn asshole sometimes. Good thing he’s cute. “Okay, kiddo, whatever you say. But when you do need to go, tell me.”

Steve tosses him a look so scornful it could pierce through six feet of pure concrete. “Don’t need to tell you, just need to get up and go. By _myself_.”

Bucky gives up. “Fine. Pass me the big sail, then, please?”

Steve does, and only a few minutes have passed since then when he suddenly gasps, his hands immediately flying to his crotch.

Right on schedule. “C’mon, Stevie, up you go,” he says and doesn’t wait for Steve to reach out for him, hauling him up to his feet by the armpits even as Steve makes a little _oomph_ of protest that Bucky ignores.

“Don’t need help,” Steve informs him, even as they’re practically flying down the hallway to the bathroom attached to their bedroom.

“You keep saying that.”

Steve fumbles with the drawstring of his workout pants, which has somehow gotten knotted up, and whines in frustration, batting Bucky’s hands away when he reaches down to help. It’s not until Steve’s got one hand holding himself in the effort to not have an accident and trying unsuccessfully to get his pants down that Bucky can take over, even though Steve still keeps making little complain-y noises as he does. But he gets it done a lot faster than Steve would, and Steve can finally yank down his pants and pull-up in one desperate motion, audibly sighing with relief as he pees into the toilet.

“Hey, you made it! Better now?” Bucky asks.

Steve nods.

“Get your pants back on so you can wash your hands, Stevie. I’d better go too.” He’d had more coffee than was probably good for him this morning.

Steve doesn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asks.

“Um.” Steve looks down at the pull-up around his ankles. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“I went a little,” he says in a small voice. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky finishes his own visit to the toilet and pats Steve on the shoulder. “It’s no big deal, Steve. You still made it. That’s just a little leak. But I think maybe next time you should go before you can’t hold it anymore, don’t you?”

Steve’s red now. “Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up. You sure you still want to try the pull-ups?”

“I can be a big boy,” he says, but doesn’t look too convinced of that himself.

“Okay. Step out of those for me and I’ll go get another one. Do you want to clean yourself up or do you want me to help?”

“Me,” Steve tells him, more firmly now, and to prove it he goes into the cabinet under the sink and pulls out a wipe from the box.

“Be right back.” Bucky plants a smooch on Steve’s cheek and leaves him to it while he goes and finds another of the alphabet block pull-ups. He’d bought some thinner ones too, more like training pants, but Steve is definitely not ready for those today.

“All clean,” Steve announces when Bucky steps back into the bathroom.

“Good job, lovebug.” It simultaneously twists something deep inside Bucky and makes him feel warm to see Steve break out into a huge sunshine smile at such a small amount of praise.

Steve takes the pull-up from Bucky and puts it on, then his pants, which Bucky stops him from tying up again with the drawstring by putting his hand over the strings and shaking his head.

“ _Daddy_ ,” he whines. “Stop messing with it.”

“I will if you do. Now come on, let’s get our hands clean and we’ll finish the ship.”

Steve brightens again, almost as if he’d forgotten all about it, and obeys Bucky’s request happily because he’s so eager to go back to playing. Bucky does the same, and they head back out to the living room, where Steve immediately wraps himself up in his blanket before flopping down on the floor. The pirate ship is done in just a few more snaps of the blocks, and Bucky prompts him with a story about space invaders (the Lego Millennium Falcon and a couple of X-wings) coming down to fight the pirates, which Steve takes up after a minute or two and spins it into his own elaborate fantasy. It’s adorable and hilarious at the same time, but after awhile Bucky realizes he should probably fix lunch for them if he doesn’t want a hangry Steve on his hands.

“Hey, it’s almost noon. Do you want to have some lunch now?”

“Yes,” Steve answers, like Bucky had known he would.

“How about some sandwiches and fruit?”

“Ham and cheese?” he asks hopefully.

“I think we can make that happen.” Thank god Steve had taken him up on that, because sandwiches are easy to put together and Steve’s going to need four of them anyway. He can slice up a couple of oranges and pears from the basket on their kitchen table while he’s at it.

Lunch is pretty uneventful, mostly because Steve likes to eat (not that Bucky doesn’t) and he’s easy to please in that way, even when he’s little, and when they’re almost finished, Bucky has an idea.

“You want to go for a walk after we’re done? The weather is nice and I think we could both use a little fresh air.”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Somebody will _see_.”

“No, they won’t. People don’t pay attention to anyone else when they have somewhere to be.”

“But what if someone sees me and knows it’s me?”

“Stevie, how many times have we gone out and nobody noticed us at all? They would notice if you wore your uniform, but not in regular clothes.” It’s true, which is the only reason Bucky had suggested it just now.

“But what about my…my…” Steve looks down at the table, toying with an orange rind on his plate. “Won’t they see that too?”

“Honestly? No.” Bucky reaches over and laces their fingers together. “You can’t tell at all.”

“You’re sure?”

“Definitely sure.” It’s true; the loose fleece pants don’t show his pull-up, and Steve will be wearing a jacket anyway.

Steve thinks about it for a moment. “Okay.”

It really is a nice early autumn day, with little humidity (a rarity for DC), a cloudless sky, and a light breeze keeping them from getting too warm as they walk from Dupont Circle to Meridian Hill Park, then turning onto 13th Street to pass through Logan Circle and back home again. They take their time with it, pausing to listen to street musicians and once for an extensive motorcade whizzing past in the direction of the White House. It’s not an uncommon sight in the city, but Steve watches like he’s never seen such a thing before.

“That was _cool_ ,” he says, swinging their interlaced hands up and down as they head back toward their apartment. Bucky detours them to pick up takeout ramen from their favorite place for dinner tonight, so they can just heat it up whenever, and once they’re in the door, Steve immediately makes a beeline for his blanket without taking off his jacket.

“You really like that thing, don’t you?” Bucky asks him with a smile, and Steve nods as he clambers onto the sofa to pull his shoes off – without untying them, as usual.

“It feels nice,” Steve tells him, practically hugging the thing.

“I bet it does. Can you take your jacket off and hang it up, please?”

“Okay, Daddy.” Steve does what Bucky asks but then immediately goes back to the sofa, making a burrito out of himself with the blanket.

“Hey, before you get settled in, do you need the potty? Really think about it for me, Stevie.”

Steve does – or at least, he _looks_ like he does – and finally comes up with a shake of his head. “Don’t need to yet.”

“All right.” Bucky had made him go before they left for their walk, but who knows with this kid?

“Can we watch a movie?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. What do you want to watch?”

“ _Mulan_?”

“ _Mulan_ it is.” Steve’s already seen it like half a dozen times, but that’s fine. Bucky will probably catch up with the news on his phone at some point during the movie anyway; his attention span for anything longer than an hour has diminishing returns.

Bucky gets the movie started and Steve happily settles in next to him. Bucky plays with Steve’s hair until Steve pushes it away (“Daddy, I’m _watching_ ”), shifting into a few different positions until he’s apparently satisfied with his comfort level. As the final battle against Shan Yu gets underway, Bucky can tell Steve’s starting to get tired by the way his neck droops against Bucky’s shoulder. It’s not surprising, considering how lousy he’d slept last night.

“Hey, how about a little nap?” Bucky suggests.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m big, don’t need one.”

“I think it would help. You seem pretty tired, Steve.”

“Don’t _need_ one,” he snaps.

Yeah, Steve absolutely does need a nap. But the movie will be over soon and then he’s going to have one whether he likes it or not, because Bucky is not going to deal with this until bedtime.

As soon as the credits start rolling, Bucky pauses the TV. “Okay, time for a potty break and then it’s naptime for you.”

“No!” Steve sends him that concrete-piercing scowl again.

“Yes, Steve. You’re getting grouchy and I know you haven’t gone in awhile.”

Steve folds his arms across his chest and plants his feet on the carpet. “I. Don’t. _Want_. To.”

“Too bad,” Bucky says lightly. “Now, are you gonna get up, or do I need to carry you?”

Steve doesn’t answer, staring straight ahead at the paused TV.

“I thought you were gonna be a big boy today and use the potty.”

“I am!”

“Then I need you to get off that sofa.”

“No nap.”

Bucky resists the urge to scrub his hand through his hair. He should have expected this. “Okay, that’s it. One, two, thr—”

Steve jumps to his feet. They’ve never gotten all the way to the end of three before, which is good because Bucky honestly doesn’t know what he’d do if they did. Put him in time-out? Make him stand in the corner? Force him to watch _The Big Bang Theory_? Ugh, no, the last one is too much.

“I’m up, I’m up.”

“Good boy,” Bucky says, glad he hadn’t needed to resort to carrying Steve. He can be dead weight when he really feels like it, and Bucky has no doubt that he feels like that today.

It isn’t until Steve drops the blanket on the bathroom floor that Bucky sees the wet spot on it.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Steve?” Bucky asks him.

Steve blushes. “I…um…”

“Had an accident?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you know you needed to go?”

A long pause. “Ummmm. Maybe?”

“Is that a yes?”

Steve talks fast, the way he does when he’s nervous about getting in trouble. “I didn’t wanna miss the movie and I thought I could hold it in until it was over but I really had to go so I went and then I was all wet and I’m sorry, Daddy, I know it was bad, I was supposed to be trying.”

Well, that explains a few things. “It’s not bad, Steve, and I’m not mad at you,” he says reassuringly. “Maybe you’re just not ready yet.”

Steve looks mutinous. “I am too.”

“Big boys use the potty when they need to go, even if it’s during a movie.”

“I still don’t wanna nap,” Steve says in an effort to redirect the conversation.

“Sorry to hear that, kiddo, but you really do need one. I’ll lie down with you until you fall asleep, if you want.”

“I _don’t_ want.”

“Your choice. Now, you need changed, and you need to let me do that. You can’t stay wet all day,” Bucky tells him. “Go put the changing pad out and lie down for me.”

Steve’s mouth drops open in outrage. “I don’t need a diaper!”

“You do, especially if you’re going to sleep for a little while. Remember what happened last time you went to bed without a diaper?” It had been a good thing they’ve got a mattress protector under the sheets.

Steve turns scarlet at the memory. “Not fair, Daddy.”

“I’m sorry you think so, but my job as Daddy means that I have to make sure you’re healthy,” Bucky explains. “And I promise if you will do what I ask you to do, you’re gonna feel a lot better after.”

“You promise?” Steve eyes him warily.

“I do.”

He heaves a sigh that sounds like the entire world is pressing down on his shoulders like a bad masseuse. “ _Fine_.”

At least he lets Bucky change him into an overnight diaper without too much fuss, even though he makes a point of not looking at Bucky. But once he’s in bed and Bucky’s closed the curtains against the afternoon sunlight, Steve sits up when he sees Bucky with his pants and blanket bundled up.

“Daddy, where are you taking my blanket?”

“To the washing machine, Stevie.” He’d thought that was obvious.

“You _can’t_!”

“It’s all wet, Stevie, it’s going to smell yucky if it dries without being washed.” Bucky has to sidestep him to avoid Steve’s outstretched hands making a grab for the blanket.

“But I need it.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbles.

“When you wake up from your nap, it’ll be all clean and warm from the dryer and waiting for you,” Bucky tells him from the doorway.

“But I can’t sleep without it, Daddy.”

“It’ll be done before you know it. I’ll be right back, okay?” Bucky slips out of the room before Steve can say anymore, and Christ, he feels like such an asshole right now. It really does need washed, though. Steve even _eats_ with the thing wrapped around him, for god’s sake.

Steve’s wrapped around his teddy bear when Bucky returns, and his eyes are wet. “I can’t sleep, Daddy,” he whispers.

“It’s just for a little while, Stevie,” Bucky reassures him. “Do you want me to stay with you until you do?”

He nods, and Bucky kicks off his shoes to slide into bed with Steve.

“I’m sorry I got m’blanket wet,” Steve says quietly, after crying into Bucky’s shirt for a few minutes while Bucky rubs his back.

“You don’t have to be sorry about that, lovebug. It’s an easy problem that’s being fixed right now. Can you try and close your eyes for me?”

“Don’t want more bad dreams.”

“I understand.” Bucky kisses his cheek. “But it’s important to try. I’ll stay right here until you’re asleep, and I’ll leave the door open a little so I can hear if you need me, okay?”

It’s a testament to how exhausted Steve really is that he finally just says, “Okay,” and settles down into the pillows.

Thank _fuck_ they have the new-style washer and dryer set that gets laundry done so much faster than the regular kind, because the dryer goes off about five minutes before Steve wakes up. Bucky had spent the time straightening up the apartment and reorganizing the bookshelves. He loves organizing; it’s got such tangible results. And wiping down the sofa, of course. Thank god it’s leather and that the blanket had absorbed most of Steve’s leak.

“Daddy?” Steve calls, and he doesn’t sound grouchy anymore, which is a good sign.

“Right here, Steve.” Bucky pushes their bedroom door all the way open and presents him with the blanket, warm from the dryer as promised. Steve snatches it and holds it up to his face, inhaling deeply. Bucky’s glad he’d used some of that nice fabric softener now. “See? Just like I promised.”

Steve beams at him. “ _Thank_ you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, bug. You ready for dinner in a half hour or so?”

He nods and drapes the blanket over himself like a cape, holding his arms out to be picked up, and Bucky obliges. Steve hangs on as if for dear life while Bucky gets a firm arm under his butt, which is pretty squishy now that he thinks about it.

“I think maybe you need a change, what about you?” Bucky asks him.

Steve rests his chin on Bucky’s shoulder. “Uh-huh.”

“Do you want another pull-up?” He might as well ask, because he’ll be in trouble if he makes the wrong guess.

“Nuh-uh.”

He chuckles at Steve’s commitment to non-answers. “Done with trying to be a big boy today?”

“It’s a lot.”

“I know it is. But you made a good effort,” he says, and heads into the bathroom with Steve still on his hip to grab a couple of wipes and a new diaper.

“Not really.”

“Anything is hard the first time you try it.” Bucky ruffles Steve’s hair. “But you tried and that’s what matters. It doesn’t mean you failed, just that maybe you’re not quite ready yet.”

He’s quiet as Bucky sets him down on the changing pad and starts the process of untaping and wiping and rubbing cream and taping back up again. “Daddy?”

“Yeah, baby?” Ah, shit, he hadn’t meant for that to slip out. Steve’ll give him the business now, Bucky’s sure.

It’s a surprise that he doesn’t. “I like it when you take care of me. Everything else is really hard and I’m always trying to be good and help people and it’s a lot and it’s better with you.”

Bucky pats Steve’s thigh to let him know they’re all done, and Steve sits up, still in just his pullover and diaper. “Steve, you _are_ good; you don’t have to try to be. You do good things for other people all the time. And it’s okay to need a break from helping. I’m always, _always_ happy to take care of you.”

Steve lets out a little sigh. “It _feels_ like I’m bad.”

“It’s not bad to want things just for yourself. You’re just like everyone else, and everyone needs a break sometimes.” Bucky pulls him into a hug.

“Then how come I only have that with you?” Steve asks, and he sounds so sad that Bucky kind of wants to die.

“I don’t know, baby. But as long as I’m around, you can be whatever and whoever you want to be. You don’t have to pretend to be happy when you’re not. You can be sad or mad when you feel sad or mad.” Bucky gives him a little squeeze, super hating this whole Captain America thing all over again.

“It’s just…it’s…really hard and it’s really hard almost all the time.”

“It is,” Bucky agrees, because he’s more than passing familiar with the concept. “But I’m here and you can always count on me to help you to make it a little easier.”

Steve’s quiet for a little while. “I’m sorry I said I didn’t need you to help. I didn’t really mean it.”

“It’s all right, Stevie. We’re still new at this, so we’re not always going to be looking at things the same way at first. We’ll get to figuring it out.”

Steve looks up. “You’re a good daddy,” he says, and hugs Bucky so tightly that he thinks his ribs might crack, but even if they do, it’d be worth it.

“Thank you, lovebug. You’re a good boy, Steve, you really are.”

Steve hugs him even tighter.

“You want to put on some pants and we can start heating up dinner?”

“Okay. Can you help me?”

“Anytime.”


End file.
